The Empty Pew and That Pesky "R" word

Think about this question:

"What's your religion?"

Have you ever been asked that? More than likely you have. And it seems like such a simple question, as if you could answer it with one term and that would be it. All done. 

I'm Christian. I'm Muslim. I'm Buddhist. I'm Atheist. 

But it doesn't truly answer anything. Maybe it tells the person asking the absolute basic beliefs that you have, but it doesn't tell them anything about your relationship with God and our universe. It doesn't give them any kind of glimpse into your heart and mind. 

And that's why you get people who say "I'm not religious, I'm spiritual." And I understand what they are getting at. Some people despise religion, and honestly I'm not that fond of it myself. Spirituality speaks to a divine connection. Religion outlines a set of rules and regulations. 

I'm not often asked about my religion, though. Most people in my life at this point know me well enough that they believe they already know the answer. I usually get this question instead: Are you still going to church?

It's a check-in. Are you still doing what we all believe we must be doing in order to stay on the straight and narrow? 

And I often feel I have to skirt around that question. I feel I need to answer that question with a list of excuses and justifications. 

But the short answer is no. No I'm not still going to church. And no, I don't plan on joining one any time soon. And no, I don't feel guilty about it, even though (if you're the one asking), you probably think I should. 

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This morning I came across an article posted by a friend on my Facebook feed. She captioned it "Here's the dumbest thing you'll read today." So, of course, I had to check it out. And I found myself becoming angry as I read it. Not because I'm extremely passionate about the heroins mentioned in this article. Not even because I'm fired up about women being referred to repeatedly as "the weaker sex". But because of the author's apparent religious overtones and his firm belief in belittling an entire gender in the name of God. 

"Look at all these times that the Bible equates failing epically to being just like a woman", the article (pretty much) says. 

And while I know that many believe that a woman is to be submissive (and others take this way too seriously), I also know that this man is one of millions of people and his opinion isn't exactly fact. 

But I just kept thinking enough is enough.

Degrading others, being judgmental, being selfish and greedy, being dismissive, being angry, being hateful--all in the name of religion. It's enough. 

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My 6 year old has become obsessed with natural disasters. A couple years ago our home flooded and it was very traumatic for him. A couple of months ago, tornadoes touched down near our home and we've had several tornado warnings and watches in the last few months. His terror of them has turned into a deep curiosity and I love that about him. Knowledge is power and he wants to know all he can. 

He wants to know all he can about everything. And just the other day, he says to me, "Mom, why were tornadoes made?" 

I gave him the simple run down of how a tornado is formed but that wasn't enough for him. So, I prepared myself for a scientific lecture and before I was a sentence or two in he said "No, I mean..why does God make things that kill people? God made everything right? So why would he make tornadoes and hurricanes?" 

Well, to be honest, kiddo...I really don't know. And that's just what I told him. I can explain the science behind the weather all he wants but I can't answer that question because I don't have the answers myself. Why does God allow tragedies to happen? We believe it's all part of a grand plan but how do you explain to a 1st grader that God thinks it's for the greater good for these 100 innocent people to die this one day? I wasn't ready to travel down that rabbit hole so I just told him I really wasn't sure. 

Just days before, he struck up another conversation about God that I wasn't prepared for. I told you this kid was super curious. I'm not even sure what got us on the subject but he says to me "I want to find out as much as I can about Heaven and about Hell so I can decide which one I want to go to. I guess Heaven because Hell sounds really scary. And the Devil lives there and he's mean."

I was completely taken off guard. Where did he even learn about the devil and Hell? He sure as hell didn't hear about it from me or his dad (pun intended). He told me people were talking about it at school. 

My little curious, inquisitive boy is also very sensitive. And before the conversation was over he was asking me what he could do to make sure he didn't go to Hell. He was crying. He was afraid, And I was angry. Not with him, not at all. But with the reality that I was going to have to enter into this conversation with him, unprepared, and unwilling to say or do something that was going to upset his little heart. 

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I grew up in church. All my family and friends were Christian or Catholic. Mostly Christian. We lived in a very small town and attended the same very small Baptist church that my grandfather was a deacon at before he died. I loved my church family. I have a lot of good memories surrounding that church, and some bad, but that's for another day. 

I learned all about Jesus from the day I was born. I loved God. I was happy. But I was also very aware that I was stained. At 5 years old, I made the decision to "be saved". What was I needing saved from? A life destined to end in the fiery pits of Hell. Without praying for Jesus to take up residence in my heart, I would be lost. No child wants to be lost. And, I really wanted to be able to have grape juice and crackers with everyone else so I went for it. 

I never felt like I was pressured into that decision. Neither of my parents were even present when I announced that I wanted to say that prayer. Most people at that church genuinely cared about me and were filled with joy that I would be so moved to seek God at such a young age. 

And there's nothing wrong with developing a relationship with God so young. There's nothing wrong with loving him and being grateful. It's a very endearing thing. 

But I remember very clearly that love and gratefulness wasn't all I felt. I also felt guilt. And fear. And it drove me to do or not do a lot of things. The guilt and the fear was what motivated most of my choices, not the love. Of course I loved all my friends and family..I would have with or without a relationship with God. But I knew about Hell. And I knew that sin was what brought it on. And I also knew that it was nearly impossible not to sin. 

Every time I got sick, I thought I was being punished. I remember vividly sitting on the toilet with a stomach bug crying out to God--not to heal me, but to forgive me. Forgive me for whatever it is I did that made You punish me this way. I was taught in Sunday school that God wouldn't hear my prayers if I was sinful. Sin was like a ceiling over me that blocked me from God. So each night when I prayed, I would first say "forgive me for all my sins", so I could open those doors of communication. I knew that I had probably done so many sinful things that I couldn't even list them all. I lied to my mom. I didn't do my homework on time. I stayed up late and watched The Golden Girls when I was supposed to be in bed. I fought with my brother. I ate two pieces of candy instead of the one I was told I could have. I was doomed. 

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Throughout my childhood and teenage years, I stopped going to church. I still considered myself a Christian, I still believed in God and Jesus' sacrifice. I just didn't do the whole Sunday/Wednesday thing. And I was fine with that. But in my adulthood I discovered a church and a group of people that made me question where I was at in my faith. I believed I wasn't good enough. I started trying to take the Bible very seriously, word for word. Although my church was very vocal about it not being about rules but about your faith, I felt in order to establish faith you had to follow the rules. I went to church a few times a week. I read my Bible and journaled daily. I prayed all the time. I stopped using the occasional cuss word. I stopped laughing at or making crude jokes. I tried to tell myself I felt a certain way or that even though I didn't feel it, I should do/be it because that's what would get me closer to God. I was going through one of the hardest times in my life and I was desperately seeking Him. I just knew if I did everything He called me to do in the Bible that I'd feel the connection, I'd have the intimate relationship and it'd all be worth it. But I felt more alone than ever. Not only did I not have some miraculous, comforting feeling of truly knowing God, but I barely knew myself. I'd argue points with people that I didn't even truly believe...maybe I was trying to convince them, maybe I was trying to convince myself. 

After some time, I just stopped. It wasn't a specific choice but I just allowed myself to not feel like I needed to jump through every hoop and follow blindly and go go go and do do do in order to truly call myself a Christian. 

I moved away from where that church was and when I no longer had people to ask me where I was on Sunday, I stopped worrying about it. If God was gonna show up for me, it was going to have to be in my own house. I was tired. And I was disappointed. Never had I tried so hard to pull myself close to Him and I just didn't feel it. I wanted to, with all my heart. But I didn't.  

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Ever since I threw myself completely into "being a good Christian", and the subsequent fallout, I've just kind of been floating around in a confused space in the middle. I believe in God. I take most of what the Bible says or what we have translated/interpreted it to say over the years with a grain of salt. I believe that above all else, we're called to love one another. What else is there? If we do those two things, doesn't most of everything else kind of fall into place? I love singing certain hymns. I am in awe over beautiful sunsets and my children's smiles and I believe He created them.  I'm not big on rules and regulations. I don't believe that God insists on me (or any of us) denying ourselves happiness to establish some kind of merit. I think he wants us to love one another. If the thing that makes you happy hurts someone else, then don't do it. If it hurts no one, then by all means, go for it. I try to see God looking at me as I look at my children. I love when they are sweet to each other, forgiving, helpful. It frustrates me to see them fight. It pains me to see them hurt each other. But it's never going to bring me to the point of shutting them out--it wouldn't matter if they did it one time or a million times.

I don't want them to be motivated by guilt and fear. You might think "You can't teach Heaven and not teach Hell." But oh, I will. When they are older, they will discover all they need to know to form their own opinion. But right now? I do not want them to be pressured by those three Rs: rules, regulations, and religion. 

I want them to be motivated by love. I want them to know one thing of God: that He gives love and he inspires love. I want them to be kind because it makes their hearts smile, not because they fear something unkind happening to them. I want them to give because their hearts yearn to share, not because they fear that they will lose everything. 

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Right now, the pew where I once sat is empty but my mind and heart are full. I am trying to learn to love God again. I am trying to learn who God really is. Not some cloud-faced genie in the sky, not some authoritative boss whose approval I will never earn--something in between. Something more genuine, something simpler.  I'm trying to find out who He is and who I am at the same time. It's a journey that has taken me a lifetime so far and it may take me the rest of my life. I am ditching the guidelines. In the pit of ceaseless effort and hopeless effect, I'm no longer grasping in the dark for a rope to pull me out. I'm using love as my lantern and digging my own way.


**********Edited to add a note of clarification***********
As I was thinking about this an hour after I published it, I thought "I hope no one takes this the wrong way."
I want to clarify that no one who has been a part of my journey is responsible for my journey. I am quite fond of the way I was raised. My mother is a great woman of faith and I admire her for that, and for teaching me to be humble and to love freely. My family honors their faith by being supportive and loving through all times. My church family as a kid and as an adult was filled with people who were there for me. Especially in my adult years, those people offered great friendship and comfort. My beliefs and my questions are not a reflection of anyone or anything that has been done "wrong", but simply a part of the path I am walking as an individual. I love you all.